She smiled that smile and he saw her as if for the first time. She took his breath away as she always did, but tonight- tonight was different. Her reddish-blond hair was swept onto her head in a messy up-do. She wore a beaded halter top that was very low cut and black, form fitting flare leg slacks. She was tugging on her black leather coat. He asked if she was going out and she walked away, a sly grin over her shoulder. The stillness was overwhelming. The only sound was his heartbeat. He sighed deeply, ragged and mournful, as he chewed on the arm of his glasses, gazing after her.

They could never stay mad at each other and they had a "healthy relationship." They always worked things out, almost immediately. Just like now. They had only gotten closer, if that were possible, since his surgery. Her scent and the feel of her loving arms surrounding him as they embraced in the hospital still enveloped him like an impenetrable protective force field. She knew his every feeling, every thought, every physical ailment. He chose to tell her and her alone all his secrets. She worried about him. She took tender loving care of him...Catherine was there for him when he somehow ended up pulling a three day shift; rescued him with food, encouragement, and her smile just as she always did... Like twice today, even- worrying if he'd had enough sleep and then if she could get him anything before she left just now.

In one 5 minute conversation during her review, however, his world was shattered. 18 years seemed to disappear. She cashed a check she had received from Sam. He understood she did it mainly for Lindsey, yadda, yadda, yadda ... But what had him in the deepest misery was another thing she mentioned. She had apparently had a fling 7 months ago. She allowed another man to hold her... touch her. And now she was "going out" looking like a vision of natural beauty, sophistication and pure sexuality. Jealousy raged in him. Betrayed by the one person he believed in, trusted with his heart, soul, and life. But he couldn't blame her. He had yet to officially tell her how he felt. She was only trying to have a personal life. It wasn't like he hadn't had opportunities himself, but they never even got off the ground. As he reminisced, he realized that there was something in the other women that was also in Catherine.

Poor, kindhearted Terri Miller. Blonde hair and blue eyes. She was soft spoken but spunky. Married now. They didn't even make it through one dinner together because he chose to answer his cell phone; truth be told, he had been glad to get out of that situation. Terri embodied Catherine's kind, soulful, feminine side, made him think of watching her with Lindsey.

Lady Heather. Long black hair, shiny black eyes. Lovely lips. He had gone a step further with her and actually touched her face. But he pulled away, "stopped." He was drawn to her, but didn't want to act on it. She didn't want to respond to whatever was going on between them, either, or she would have made a move of her own other than what she had done. They spent the night talking and perhaps making grounds to go further. They had tea in the morning, but Jim's call, with information that told him she could be a suspect in the murder, shattered anything that could have been between them. Lady Heather represented Catherine's overwhelmingly sexy, dangerously powerful, instinctive, intuitive side.

Then there was Sara Sidle. He closed his eyes. The case where the victim had looked like her made him think about her, yes. They met 5 years ago at a seminar he taught in San Francisco. They were quite alike in many ways. He knew from the start she was smitten with him and wanted to have an all out relationship with him. He had to admit, in the beginning at least, it was flattering. Now, lately, it had become more of a bother. He was 15, almost 16 years older than she was. It was a relief when he was recently faced with a victim who so strongly resembled her that even Catherine said it could have been their co-worker on Doc Robbins' autopsy table. It forced him to think more about his life, not necessarily only about Sara. But it had put what he 'felt' for her in perspective. He cared about Sara as he did Lindsey. He could not and did not return the feelings she had for him- at least not the kind she wanted him to have and not how she wanted him to return them. He did not want her, but he also did not want to see her dead or in pain. Sara was very intelligent and loved her job- just like Catherine.

So there it was. Catherine was the reason he unconsciously ruined any other prospect for a relationship. Of course, he knew it was Catherine's doing all along. He just needed to admit it. He knew his heart wouldn't be able to let any of them in and he did not want to hurt the women. Every road led to his beloved Catherine.

Two recent instances came to his mind. Mr. Kirkwood lost his daughter Susanna. He asked him if he had a wife and children. He remembered how his mind immediately formed a picture of he and Catherine snuggling with Lindsey on the sofa, smiles blazing, and how when he had gone off to the small town of Jackpot, everyone thought they were married and he felt no desire to correct them. He loved the idea of Catherine as his wife. She was the only woman he ever thought of like that. All he had to do was find a way to say three words to her...

... She walked away down the hall, her high-heeled black leather boots clicking on the floor, resting her hands on her taught, perfect stomach, trying to calm the butterflies that were taking wing. Gil. Thank God he said they were going to be OK. That was the most important thing in the world to her. She had been so afraid and sad after their earlier tiff. Nothing in the world scared her more than fighting with him. Not that they did it often and they always got over it immediately. She wouldn't be who or where she was had Gil not come into her life all those years ago. If it weren't for him, she'd still be stripping, high and more likely than that, dead.

She pushed open the double glass doors and stepped into the cool night air. She fished in her left pocket for her keys and slowed her pace; she didn't want to go where she was going. Here she was on her way to have a drink with this new guy at his club. He was kind of cute and seemed nice enough. She was cruel to lead him on, but right now, she didn't care. There was no point, her heart was not and would never be in it. He tried to kiss her. She responded in a very small way, then pulled back firmly. And now that she knew things were OK with Gil, she understood she let it go even THAT far only because she was vulnerable and scared after their fight. Guilt overwhelmed her. Guilt that she had almost kissed another man. Her head was hung low and the door to the Denali felt like it weighed a ton as she pulled it open.

"Cath!"

There was no mistaking the desperation and anxiety in the familiar, warm voice- her most favorite voice, the voice that haunted her dreams and lifted her spirits. Her heart stopped and then started again double time. She raised her head. Her blue-green eyes immediately met his. She heard every word he could not say- most importantly the three words she had longed to hear from his lips. She couldn't speak, either. Their eyes remained locked as he closed the distance between them.

"I asked if there was anything I could do to help you out of your... drought." he said.

She noticed his blue eyes were soft but the fire blazing inside him made them shine like two stars. "I came up with a great idea. Wanna hear it?"

He saw no point in wasting any more time. He knew she liked his "tough act," so he gently pressed her back against the side of the large black SUV, covering every inch of her body with his. This time it was intimate and enjoyable, not like the time he had done it to protect her and they were terrified for their lives.

"I know what's on your mind," she managed, her sultry voice full of desire and genuine emotion. She gave him an all-knowing smirk. Her plan had worked much faster than she thought it would.

"You always do."

They stood silently for a few moments, lost in each other's eyes, happy to be so close again physically and emotionally. She tilted her head up and their lips met in the most passionate, loving kiss that ever was. It took a moment for them to get their bearings. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as physically possible. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers into his soft grey-brown waves. His beard ticked her chin and she though it was the most glorious feeling she had ever felt. To her surprise, he parted her lips and awkwardly deepened the kiss. It was as if he was trying to show her he had the goods, like he felt he had to show her he was on her level when it came to... that sort of stuff. She giggled lovingly at his sweet folly. She pulled him closer and broke the kiss. She allowed her tongue to softly dance over his chin and lips, then slide into his mouth. She showed him what it was all about. After a few minutes, he moaned, unaccustomed to the physical affection and the response it was producing in him.

"We'd better get out of the parking lot of our place of work to finish this business, my dear," she said, her soft lips brushing against his as she spoke.